Putting up with crap.

“It had already been the murderous mother of all bad days to begin with, and now he had to drag his bone-weary body through the depths.  He was tired of pain, tired of endlessly walking, tired of being pursued.  He was tired of darkness. I guess the only thing I’m not tired of is living, he thought. Which is why I’m doing all this other bullshit.” – Tad Williams, War of the Flowers 

I have an older sister. We never had that best-friend sister relationship and there was always distance between us. Why doesn’t matter anymore.

Now the relationship is painful for me. Growing up she seemed to struggle with everything–her anxiety was so bad.  I was the “normal” one. (hah. Normal. Funny). Now she’s happy.  She’s got a job she loves and is good at, a boyfriend, and all those happy memories I can’t seem to find. (My mind is like a black hole when it comes to the warm and fuzzy memories…they just aren’t there.)

Last night I went to go see a show with my family. My sister was talking about all the happy things in her life, and all the cutesy things her and her boyfriend do. All I could do was smile and nod. God, did it hurt. I’m not even sure I know how to explain it.  It’s like someone is showing me everything my life is not and can never be.

Everything I’ve ever done, every memory I have, is colored by my struggle.   I’m constantly fighting against the darkness, even on my good days. I’m tired. I’m sad.  I feel like I’ve lost so much.  I don’t know if I can have the life I always wanted.

But I’m trying, so damn hard.

Which is why I’m putting up with all of this other bullshit.

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